5-stars for “The Anesthesia Game” by Rea Nolan Martin

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5stars

This amazing story revolves around a terminally ill fifteen year-old girl, Sydney; her clinically depressed mother, Mitsy; her somewhat-flakey-but-well-meaning aunt, Hannah; and a somewhat fallen-from-grace mystic, Pandora, who has succumbed to indulgence in some substances that compromise her many talents. The story’s viewpoint rotates by chapter from woman to woman, and I must say that I almost didn’t make it past Chapter 1 where I met Hannah, since she was such a piece of work I wasn’t sure I could handle an entire book about this self-centered, dysfunctional woman.

We all know that there’s nothing more boring than perfect people, especially in a novel, but sometimes they can be so flawed that you just want to slap them upside the head. Fortunately, I usually give a book three chapters to grab me, and I’m glad I persevered, because it got better and better after that.

Nonetheless, the dysfunctionality of this group was rather extreme, though I suppose credible; there are plenty of people out there that are that messed up. The only thing that keeps Mitsy sane as she deals with her daughter’s horrible illness is her phone consultations with Pandora, a psychic who’s really out there, but that’s what makes her good at what she does. Being in touch with other dimensions and the etheric plane is what defines a psychic’s value. Hannah, however, thinks she’s a fraud, a complete unbeliever in such hocus-pocus.

Everyone’s life in the story revolves around Sydney, a feisty, wonderful teenager with some horrible disease the name of which they refuse to say or even think, though the implications are that it’s leukemia. When Sydney goes in for treatments, she plays the “anesthesia game”, where she asks Hannah to mention a place for her to “visit” while she’s unconscious, then come back and report what she finds.

However, as it turns out, these are not hallucinations or dreams, but excursions to another place and time during which these women were also connected, though this is not obvious to her.  At some time or another, all of them have the same dream, though the only one who comprehends its significance is Pandora. The entanglement of these four women throughout the ages has involved repeated tragedies and problems, which have again manifested in their current lifetime. Pandora believes it’s her mission to heal the root cause, once and for all, through identifying the problem at the energy level.

The main story targets whether or not Pandora would succeed in healing Sydney, but there were subplots galore. These characters were not only 3-dimensional, but possible 4 or 5, given the full scope of the story. Each has a distinct personality, the imagery vivid enough that I could easily imagine what each looked like, to say nothing of the glorious vistas describing the various settings in Connecticut, Virginia, and the Lake Tahoe area.

There’s a heavy dose of mysticism, which is why I loved it. The author did an outstanding job capturing Pandora’s spiritual connections to this other world with all its metaphysical characteristics. As someone who has similar beliefs with regard to who and what we are, including the fact that we’ve all lived multiple lifetimes, I was thoroughly sucked in and enchanted. Like Pandora, I believe that our physical bodies, spirits, and minds are intertwined at a mystical energy level that touches on the world of quantum physics. As a physicist, I loved the particle/wave duality references. Good job!

Readers of the same mindset as Hannah who aren’t into the paranormal may do a lot of eye-rolling at these mystical elements, but I ate it up. These are obviously the types who gave this great story poor reviews. Undoubtedly, it had too much depth for the casual reader.

This story took me on a magical journey that was part soap opera and part fantasy adventure, of which I loved every moment–at least once I got past the somewhat awkward introduction to Hannah. Of course this is only my opinion, but I think I would have started the story with Sydney, since in many respects she was the central character and built a lot more reader sympathy off the bat than her crazy aunt. But the good news is that she and Mitsy shaped up considerably by the mind-bending end of the story.

I’ll definitely be looking at other novels by this author. She really nailed it.

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Guest Post: New Release from Elle Klass!

Award winner, Elle Klass, is one of my favorite authors. She has a gift for creating characters who jump off the page then dropping them into plots saturated with nail-biting suspense.  Fortunately for her fans, she’s extremely prolific, so keeps ’em coming.

Her other works include the Baby Girl series, which I absolutely loved, as well as the ongoing Zombie Girl series, Bloodseekers series, and Ruthless Storm trilogy.  Another one I love is As Snow Falls, which is entirely unlike the others,  yet a classic in its own category, showing her talents span numerous genres.

As she’s gravitated toward the horror genre, her writing easily compares with greats like Mary Higgins Clark. She has just released her latest in that category, Scarlett. Check it out! –MF

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Mistress of Death may be strong language, but it’s a title that describes my thriller/horror books well. Today I’m celebrating the release of Scarlett, Book 1 in the Evan’s Girls series.

The writing that comes easiest to me is dark, demented, and terrifying. Scarlett is a girl who, under other circumstances, might be quite normal. She seeks that balance anyways, but life has something else in store for her. She is surrounded by death. It follows her and yes, many people die.

At one point in the story she goes to Mystics and Broomsticks, a metaphysical store, and buys materials to protect her from malicious spirits. I guess I forgot to mention, not only do lots of people die, but she see’s spirits. She buys a bracelet made with a dark stone. It isn’t specified in the book, but my research led me to magnetite. scarlett teaser 3

This doesn’t end the drama in her life because it only wards off evil spirits, not evil people, and her life is filled with them. Scarlett faces more than her fair share of weirdo’s, one after another, while she fights for normalcy. At some point, she just accepts the strange and wicked, but not after her most terrifying ordeal.

Reading the reviews I’m a proud Mama. There are two points they all agree on:

1. The book is seriously twisted.

2. There are some very high points and really low points. I encourage you to read them. Click here.

The best news is the book will remain $.99 for the first few days of its release!

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Connect with Elle on social media:

Blog: http://thetroubledoyster.blogspot.com/
Website: http://elleklass.weebly.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/ElleKlass
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElleKlass

Immortal: The Chosen

TheChosen

This fast-moving story gets this series off to a well-written, suspense-filled start. While I’m not that much of a vampire fan, I was nonetheless taken in by the strong characters and interesting plot that gives the vampire/werewolf/witch culture an interesting new twist. Great fiction begins with convincing characters with whom the reader can connect, and the author did a great job of populating her tale accordingly. This was achieved by getting inside each one’s head by switching the point of view for each chapter.

While such a technique can be confusing, this was done effectively and allowed the reader to get to know the thoughts and feelings of each important member of this intriguing story. This method was much more intimate than an omniscient view point, which often weakens the reader-character connection. This method worked very nicely and reminded me of piecing together a mystery by reading the journals of each character.

My only criticism, which is really quite minor but enough for me to give it four stars, is that toward the end there were quite a few names thrown around of late-breaking characters whose place in the story was a bit fuzzy. I suspect they will be more important in the next episode and this was simply an introduction. However, I tend to stick to the convention of minimizing reader confusion by not naming characters who do not relate directly to the plot (except in the case of red herrings, of course). This resulted in having to deal with a lot of faceless people with foggy identities as the story climaxed, a slight distraction that really didn’t add anything other than slowing things down as each new person was logged in, so to speak. Nonetheless, it did show the gathering of forces that would play an important part in the sequel, even though this could have been done without names.

While the ending was a cliffhanger, it was handled in such a way that it didn’t leave me gasping or frustrated, but could see the next volume coming together. I thoroughly enjoyed this story, liked the characters, and will definitely be reading the sequel.

Another FREE Book Blast! Including my latest, “The Terra Debacle”!

happy girl reading book by the window in winter

Looking to load up your Kindle or Tablet with a bunch of awesome FREE books? How about as many as 40 titles, all in speculative genres such as paranormal, science fiction, and fantasy? And the best of all, a chance to win a $50 gift card!

Now’s your chance to grab a copy of my latest, “The Terra Debacle: Prisoners at Area 51” for FREE! And remember that author’s cherish good reviews, so be sure to show your appreciation by leaving one at your favorite retailer. Check it out here!

Happy Reading!!

55368521 - 3d rendering of flying saucer ufo on night background

“Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour” — Day 13

RWISA TOUR (1)

CRAZY CAT LADY

by Amy Reece

CAT SITTER NEEDED

$50 CASH—One Night ONLY

Apply in Person

653 Silverwood Ln Apt B

Rita looked from the folded newspaper to the small adobe duplex in front of her. Well, here goes. My chances of getting murdered or sold into a sex trafficking ring are pretty good, but I need the fifty bucks. Need might be overstating it, but she wanted to go to the concert and she didn’t have the money for the tickets. Her meager paycheck from her work-study job didn’t stretch much farther than covering the bare essentials. If she wanted any fun money, she had to find other ways to acquire it. She’d done it all: research studies, selling her plasma, modeling for art studio classes. Answering a jinky ad in the college newspaper was nothing. She had left a note in her dorm room telling her slumbering roommate where she was, so at the very least maybe they’d be able to recover her body. She shook off the dark thoughts and approached the house.

A tall, thin elderly woman answered the door. “Yes? How can I help you?”

Rita held up the ad. “I’m here about the cat sitting job.”

“Oh, my dear, yes. Well, come in.” She opened the screen door and stood back to allow Rita to enter.

Amy Reece

Amy Reece

The living room smelled musty but looked tidy, with sagging, old-fashioned furniture covered with bright, hand-crocheted afghans and doilies. Several cats raised their heads from where they snoozed on the cushions, then lowered them disinterestedly. A tray with a flowered china teapot and matching cups was set on the coffee table.

“Have a seat and I’ll pour you a cup of nice hot tea. It’s so chilly out this evening, isn’t it?”

Rita sat and accepted the cup of steaming tea while she frowned at the woman. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“Oh, no,” the woman said breezily. “I was expecting you.” She smiled as she sipped her tea. “Or someone like you. I put the ad in the paper and I knew someone would be along presently.” More cats of every color had wandered into the room. There had to be nearly fifteen cats winding their way around her feet, perching on the back of her chair, and leaping into her lap.

“Oh.” Rita nodded dumbly and fumbled with the handle of the delicate cup, spilling tea into the saucer.  “So, when exactly do you need the cat sitter?”

“Well, tonight, of course. I need to go visit my sister in Santa Fe. I’ll be back soon after breakfast tomorrow. Now, let me show you where I keep their food.” She reached forward to set her cup on the table.

“But, but,” sputtered Rita, “don’t you want to know about me? About my qualifications?”

The woman laughed lightly. “It’s only feeding a few cats, dear. It’s not rocket science. Come along.” She stood, shooing the cats from her lap, and led the way into the kitchen. “The dishes are here.” She pointed to a row of small ceramic bowls lining a dish drain. “And the food is in this cabinet. They like to eat around nine and then you can wash up.”

“Okay.” Rita nodded and counted the bowls. There were only six. “Do they take turns eating? Should I refill the bowls after the first group eats?”

“I think you’ll find one round is more than enough. Most of these are ghost cats, of course. Poor dears.”

Rita stared at her blankly. “Ghost cats?”

“Yes. They seem to be drawn to me. They just can’t move on quite yet. They’re not like dogs, you know.”

Rita didn’t know. In fact, the only thing she was sure of was that this woman was obviously insane. Ghost cats? What the hell? But fifty bucks was fifty bucks, and if she had to placate a crazy woman to get it, she was glad to. “Great. No problem.”

“Now, feel free to help yourself to anything if you get a little peckish.” She led the way back to the living room, where she picked up a small, old-fashioned train case Rita hadn’t noticed before. “Be sure to lock up after me. Have a good night and I’ll see you early tomorrow.”

Rita stood in the middle of the living room and watched her leave. “Wait! How do I—” she wrenched the door open to ask her final question, but the woman was gone. She stepped onto the porch and looked upon and down the street, noticing red taillights at the stop sign at the far end. She must have had a cab or an Uber waiting. She shrugged and closed the door, locking it as instructed. Then she turned to address the room. “Well, cats and kittens, I guess it’s just us for the rest of the night. At least she keeps this place clean. With this many of you it could really reek.” She’d eaten an early dinner at the cafeteria so she wasn’t hungry. The remote was on a side table, so she grabbed it up and found a cat-free cushion to sit on. The woman didn’t have cable, but Rita managed to find a rerun of a show she enjoyed and sat back to while away the hours until feeding time. The cats, for the most part, minded their own business and left her alone. A few finally crept close enough to sniff her, but then stalked away. She’d never been much of a cat person, so she took no offense. Feeding time went off without a hitch and the woman had been correct: the six bowls were more than enough. Cats came and nibbled, but none cleaned out their bowls. Many of the cats simply came and stared at the food without touching it. Weird. Maybe they are ghost cats.

She got hungry around midnight, but found nothing but a few stale crackers in the cabinet. She took them with her to the couch, pulled one of the crocheted afghans over her legs, and fell asleep watching an infomercial.

The key in the lock woke her the next morning. She sat, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Good morning! I’m sorry I woke you. How did everything go last night?” The woman set her train case by the door as she walked in.

“Um, fine. Yeah, everything went great.”

“Oh, good.” She rummaged in her purse for her checkbook and a pen. “Now, I’ll let you fill in your name. Here you go.” She handed her the check.

Rita glanced down at it, noting the spindly handwriting, but satisfied that it was indeed for fifty dollars. Sweet. Easy money. She sat up and folded the afghan and laid it across the back of the sofa. “Thanks. Well, have a nice day.” She waved awkwardly as she let herself out of the apartment. I’ll just swing by the bank and cash this, then stop to buy the concert tickets on my way home.

“Can I help you?” The voice came from the house next door. “What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Rita turned as the woman marched down her front path to confront her.

“Were you in that apartment? How did you get in? That door is supposed to be locked! Oh, I’m going to kill my husband! He never checks!”

“Excuse me?”

“What were you doing in there?”

“No-nothing! I mean, I was watching that lady’s cats for her.” She realized she’d never asked the woman’s name. “She paid me. See?” She held up the check for the other woman.

The woman glanced at the check and frowned. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but you better get out of here before I call the cops!”

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything wrong! I answered an ad in the paper to come and watch that lady’s cats for the night. She paid me fifty dollars. See?” She showed the check to the woman again.

The woman snatched the check from her hand. “Nobody lives there! The woman with all the cats died two years ago! We’ve had a heck of a time getting renters to stay because they swear it’s haunted or some nonsense! Now, if you’re not here about renting the place then I’m going to ask you to leave. Now. Before I call the police.” She glanced down at the check, laughed briefly, and handed it back to Rita.

Rita took the check and looked at it to see what could have made the woman laugh. Her eyes widened as she saw it was not a check at all; it was nothing more than a piece of torn newsprint. It fluttered to the ground as she ran, the woman’s laughter echoing behind her.


Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH RWISAWRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

Amy Reece’s RWISA Author Page

 

“Watch RWISA Write Showcase Tour” – Day 8

RWISA TOUR (1)

The 136

I can do this. I can make it. Wet hair plastered to my head, gasping, I propel myself toward my target. The 136 bus. My heel catches on a crack in the pavement. My ankle twists sideways, sending a sharp pain up my leg. Wincing, I hobble towards the stop, just as the bus closes its doors and pulls away.

“Ahhh,” I scream in frustration.

“Here, use my umbrella.”

His voice startles me. I was so focused on catching the bus, I never noticed him until now. I must have had a serious case of tunnel vision, because he stands out a mile with his cornflower blue, spiky hair. He holds a large, black umbrella out to me.

Leaning against the post of the bus stop, to take the pressure off my throbbing ankle, I shake my head.

“Thank you, but you keep it.  I’m already wet, and it would be a shame to ruin your hair.”

He shrugs.  “It’s only hair. My umbrella is big enough for two.”

I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. Is he hitting on me? What’s wrong with the man? He looks twenty-five if he’s a day. I’m twice his age. Old enough to be his mother.

Mother.

I pick tendrils of damp hair from my forehead.

“I know what you must be thinking, but I’m just trying to do a good turn. You have nothing to fear from me, I promise.” He shelters us both with his umbrella. “You look like you’re having a bad day.”

As I listen to the rain split splat, I lean down to rub my sore ankle.

“Please let me help you.” He slips his arm through mine. “We can sit on that bench. We’ll be able to see the bus coming from there.”

With his assistance, I limp across to the empty, wooden bench that faces the road. “I just missed my bus; the next one won’t be along for an hour.” I sit down, past caring whether I get a wet spot on my skirt. “Are you waiting for a bus?”

He looks so calm, and serene.

“Yes, the 136.”

“Oh no. You didn’t miss it because of me, did you?” I frown.

“I wasn’t running for it.” He gives me a kind smile. “I have all the time in the world.”

A car drives through a puddle, splashing dirty water onto the pavement.

“I’ve got no one to rush home to either.” Maybe it’s his kind smile, maybe I just need to off load. “My husband moved out last week, left me for a woman your age.”

I hope he feels every bit his fifty-four years every second he’s with her.

“I’m sorry.”

What has it come to when I’m sitting in a downpour, telling my sob story to a stranger with blue hair? “She’s all form and no substance. If his head was turned that easily, he’s no loss.” I hold out my hand. If I’m telling the poor man my life story, the least I should do is introduce myself. “My name’s Carol.” I look into his ice blue eyes, surprised by the wisdom I see there.

“Do you have children together, Carol?”

Babies.

I stare at my feet. My heel is scuffed, and my stockings are damp. “Two daughters, they’re both grown-up.”

“Nothing beats a mother’s love for her children.” He reaches into the pocket of his long black coat, and pulls out a pack of mints. “Would you like one?”

We sit in silence, sucking on mints. The sky turns orange as the sun sets. I pull my jacket around me to keep out the chill. Behind us, a shop owner pulls down the metal security shutters of his store.

I’m curious to know more about this man, who claims he has all the time in the world. “It will be late when you get home. Do you have someone, or do you live alone?”

The street lamps come on. I watch the reflection of the light in the puddles.

“I have a loving family.”

Family.

In this moment, I feel so alone. Tears mingle with the raindrops on my cheeks. “I’m pregnant.”

The events of last week replay in my mind. Me, feeling sick every morning. Me, looking at the blue line on the pregnancy test. Me, buying a second test that gave me the same result.

“How does something like this happen to a woman my age? I’m going through the menopause; I haven’t had a period in a year. How can I be pregnant? How? Why? Why did this happen when my husband has left me?”

“What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.” He rests his hand on my shoulder.

Michelle Abbott

Michelle Abbott

“That was my mother’s favourite saying.” I wipe my cheeks. “She passed away five years ago.”

He hands me a tissue. “I’m certain she’s watching over you, and that you make her proud.”

“Pregnant at fifty-one.” I blow into the tissue. “I’m sure she’s delighted.” I let out a hollow laugh.

“How old were you when you had your daughters?”

“I was twenty-two when I had Patricia. Diane came along when I was twenty-five.”

“You learn as you go with your first, don’t you?”

For the first time I smile. “Yes, I was clueless. None of the classes prepare you for being a mother. You hold the life of your child in your hands. It’s so much responsibility.” I turn to face him. “Do you have children?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sure you know more about parenting now, than you did then.”

“Yes I do.”

“It’s hard when you’re young isn’t it? You’re trying to make your way up the career ladder. Struggling to save for a home.”

I nod.

“Those things get easier as you get older, don’t they?”

“Yes they do.” I’m on a good wage. I own a spacious home in a good area.

“You have more time, more understanding, and more patience.”

I nod.

“And you’re wiser. You know what really matters.”

I let out a laugh. “You make being old sound wonderful.” He really does.

He raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it?”

I recall my childhood, how I hated having to do as I was told. How I would get upset at the smallest things. I remember my angst filled teenage years, being unhappy with my appearance. The heartbreak when the boys I thought I loved dumped me. I have a vivid memory of how stressful early parenthood was.

I study him. “You’re wise for someone so young.”

“Am I?”

The rain has stopped. He collapses his umbrella.

“Nothing is ever as bad as it seems, Carol. A child is a gift. A new start. Someone to love.”

Someone to love. A new start.

I sit up straighter. He’s right. I can do this. I have a nice home, money, and a heart full of love.

“Oh look, here’s your bus.”

Already? Have we been talking for an hour? I glance at my watch. Only twenty minutes have passed. The brakes of the bus screech as it pulls up.

As I root in my purse for my fare, I hear him say, “I’m glad I could help.”

“Let’s sit together.” I glance behind me. “I want to thank…” The words die in my throat. No one is there. I look left and right, but the street is empty. Goosebumps spread across my skin.

“Are you getting on love?” the driver calls.


Thank you for supporting this member along the WATCH “RWISAWRITE Showcase Tour today!  We ask that if you have enjoyed this member’s writing, to please visit their Author Page on the RWISA site, where you can find more of their writing, along with their contact and social media links, if they’ve turned you into a fan.  WE ask that you also check out their books in the RWISA or RRBC catalogs.  Thanks, again for your support and we hope that you will follow each member along this amazing tour of talent!  Don’t forget to click the link below to learn more about this author:

Michelle Abbott’s RWISA Author Page

Review of “The Old House” by Karl Morgan

theoldhouse

This paranormal suspense thriller is best described as “Freddie Kruger plays Jumanji.” When Simon Carter’s grandfather dies, he inherits a fortune, contingent on living in an old house for two years. The house is loaded with secrets and a variety of dangers which his namesake and great-grandfather literally built walls around, which Simon has been instructed to uncover in a specific order. Of course circumstances arise which makes this impossible and all hell breaks loose.

The action and suspense were reasonably well-sustained and the author clearly has an excellent imagination. The imagery was reasonably well-developed as well as the plot itself with inter-generational intrigue and the usual discontent that inevitably arises over legacies. The premise for this story was great, but I felt as if it read like a first draft. It could have been so much more than it was, had the author spent a little more time with it to develop the characters.

As a writer myself, I find it relatively easy to capture action and dialog in a story, but the other elements that enrich it and make it stand out often need to be added later, such as emotional impact. I found the characters flat and my involvement with them and the story was nonexistent. For all that was going on, there was nothing that described what the characters were experiencing at an emotional level in a situation that should have been loaded. This is essential for a thriller to evoke the fear and concern you want the reader to experience with the protagonist. Instead, I found some of the action scenes boring since I wasn’t engaged with Simon or anyone else.

This was undoubtedly exacerbated by the omniscient viewpoint, which was difficult to follow. Switching the point of view with a division is one thing, but jumping from one to another is like watching a B movie where you never know or relate to any of the characters. The transitions were bumpy, and there were times when someone simply appeared on the scene from nowhere, and I’m not talking about the specters. The dialog was often stilted and expletives overdone. Missing articles and prepositions scattered throughout indicated a poor job of copy editing.

Like so many stories, this one has great potential. It possess a great framework for an intriguing story, but for me it simply didn’t deliver. At most, I’d give it three stars for a great premise and interesting plotline. I recommend that the author practice rendering emotion for his characters so this story can come alive and contain the impact it could. The author has written several books and this is the first one I’ve read. Unfortunately, it was disappointing enough it’s doubtful I’ll try any of the others.

You can find it on Amazon here.

“The Monster Upstairs” –Another YA Paranormal Hit from Elle Klass

themonsterupstairs

Elle Klass fans will undoubtedly love “The Monster Upstairs”,  latest in her “Bloodseeker” series set in historic St. Augustine, Florida.

This heart-stopping sequel to the first book in this series, “The Vampires Next Door”, provides a wild ride (some onboard a rather hot werewolf) as the lethal conflict between Bloodseekers and Slayers intensifies. Slayers aren’t alone in their quest; in case you haven’t already guessed, werewolves are likewise engaged in this timeless battle, as well as Light witches and Dark witches, their mysterious ties revealed in this suspenseful Young Adult thriller.  I’m not normally a vampire fan, but Elle’s have a slightly different twist and culture, that makes them more interesting. Especially the Slayers, tasked with keeping them under control or, better yet, eliminated, through individual powers endowed through their amulets.

The author continues her enviable ability to bring vivid and memorable characters to life, as she has with all of her series. In this story we meet teenage Mandy, who’s suddenly confronted by unexpected and daunting challenges associated with her fated destiny. Previously unaware she’s the product of a forbidden liaison, she discovers family secrets in a shocking turn of events that change her life forever. Whisked away to Wolf Manor, she discovers the true nature of the mysterious man named Joel and his mother as well as the fateful roles they’ve played in her life.

Each supernatural entity has its own fascinating agenda as the forces of good and evil battle for dominance. The author brings refreshing new twists to classic supernatural beings you only thought you knew and understood. Their respective cultures and the relationships between them, both as individuals and groups, are nicely developed, bringing depth and credibility to their intriguing world.

Alison and Rodham, along with the other amulet-wielding Slayers you met in “The Vampires Next Door”, return, their fates converging with Mandy’s and Joel’s, as this clever tale gathers momentum and complexity, ultimately converging in a clash between powerful supernatural forces in historic, mystery-laden Saint Augustine. And there’s more in this series to come!

This Teen/Young Adult thriller is a fast read, but in spite of the paranormal subject, not overly graphic or so scary you can’t read it at night. I’m a real coward when it comes to such stuff, but had no problems being creeped out. I recommend reading “The Vampires Next Door” first, if you haven’t already, so you can follow more easily how the two books and characters fit together.

You can preorder your copy here.

While you’re waiting, get your copy of “The Vampires Next Door” here.

VampiresNDCover

RRBC Spotlight Author Blog Tour: Yvette M. Calleiro

TheOneDiscovered - Cover Design 10

It’s an honor to host the first day of this week’s RRBC Author Spotlight Blog Tour featuring Yvette Calleiro. She writes young adult fantasy and paranormal books that sound absolutely intriguing!  I love the cover you can see above. Yvette is a born writer who has found inspiration for her stories in her dreams. Now those dreams are manifesting again in her latest book, “The One Discovered.” I can really relate to Yvette in that her story has expanded to several books as her characters took over. I love it when that happens! Read on to learn more about this amazing, up and coming author!

 It Began with a Dream…

by

Yvette M. Calleiro

What better way to share with you this journey that I’m on than to begin at the beginning.  I am an avid reader and have been since as far back as I can remember. As a child, I used to love writing, but I stopped writing as I grew older and life became more cumbersome. About six years ago, I rediscovered my love for writing, and my life has been a whirlwind of enjoyment ever since!

I woke up one morning from a dream that was so intense and so vivid that I was emotionally distraught.  I can’t really share the dream with you without giving away a major event in my first book, but I will tell you that it involved a girl whose life was forever altered by a tragic event, and she was being forced to make a choice in that very emotional moment.  I woke up before she made the choice (which was extremely irritating).  I felt her angst, her pain, and her utter turmoil.  I lay in bed processing it all and then ran to my office to write it all down (I now keep a journal by my bed for such moments). I just wrote the dream. Nothing more. It was just that powerful that it had to be given life.

At the time, I was co-teaching with a dear friend, Armando. I was also heavily absorbed in PC and Kristen Cast’s world in their House of Night series as well as Cassandra Claire’s Mortal Instrument series.  Armando loved to share with me tidbits of Wicca and history as I spoke to him about the novels that I read.  I fell in love with many aspects of Wicca, and somehow my dream kept coming to the forefront of my thoughts.  I finally accepted that this dream was an untold story that needed to be shared, and I would pull my favorite ideas from books new and old to create their story.  After all, all stories are ideas that were born from somewhere!

What came first was what they looked like. I could still picture them from the dream. I’m old-school and had to write it all out in a journal first.  Their physical characteristics, their personalities, their power(s)…all of that came easily.  Their names, on the other hand, took a while.  I even had the background story lined up before their names were known to me!  It was that background story which allowed the characters to whisper to me what their names would be: Sofia, Rafe, Angel, and Ar’ch (pronounced ar-rick). I shouldn’t have favorites, but I can’t help it. Ar’ch was definitely my favorite at the beginning!  It’s not a common name (actually, it’s never been used as a name).  But it’s perfect and it’s his, and it fits the story line beautifully!

Once I finally allowed myself to listen to my characters’ voices, the whole story wrote itself (well, the basics were at least born).  Still, there was a lot of research that I had to do. Anyone who knows me knows that my absolutely worst subject is History, but I wanted to loosely base the back story on a few historical events.  Granted, I’ve had to “slightly alter” those events to incorporate my Diasodz, but it was important to me that it would make sense if it were real. I also researched Wicca and nature’s elements and their properties.  I’m sure that there will be naysayers who can point out that one thing or another isn’t authentic, but – hey – it’s MY world!   I want it to be as realistic as possible, but I can’t help it if the Diasodz have their own ideas on what is real and what isn’t.

The journey of writing The One Discovered was so fulfilling, and I knew I had to share this world with readers. I tried going the traditional route.  Apparently, they weren’t too interested in my query letter.  My family and the few friends I shared it with kept encouraging me to publish it.  One friend in particular, Rob, became my first true fan! He’s more into sci-fi and super heroes than paranormal, but he became hooked with my characters and their story.  His eagerness to know more and his passion about my story kept me going at many times throughout this journey.  He has a way of saying something or asking me a question which then causes a whole new character or story line to be created. In fact, because of Rob, one of the characters from book one was saved. I had plans on killing her off, but he told me that he thought she was awesome. The very next night, that character told me off (hehe) and a whole story line for her was created! So, if you also fall in love with Mel, you can thank Rob for saving her! 😉 I thank him all of the time because she’s become my new favorite. 🙂

I finally decided to self-publish. It’s been two years since The One Discovered was released, and I still feel like I am in unknown territory.  Self-publishing, blogging, creating a web site, having a Facebook author page, and connecting through Twitter…. It’s overwhelming, nerve-wrecking, and exciting all at the same time!  Originally, I thought there would only be four books in this series, but as I am currently writing book four, I know there will at least be one more after this one (possibly two).  I hope you’ll stick around to fall in love with my Diasodz and the journey they must endure to save us mere humans from a life not worth living…

Yvette Yvette is the author of the young adult fantasy/paranormal books, The One Discovered, The One Enlightened, and The One Betrayed.

 Follow Yvette on Social Media:

Twitter: @YvetteMCalleiro

Facebook: http://facebook.com/yvettemcalleiro

Website: http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com

 

Review of Elle Klass’ “Eye of the Storm: Eilida’s Tragedy”

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A deranged serial killer, a violent thunderstorm, a neighbor inadvertently witnessing the gruesome scene. Seen by the perpetrator as she peeks through the backdoor, she tumbles down the side of a mountain trying to escape, sustaining a concussion and near-fatal injuries. Who is she? And what is the bizarre connection that links her with Sunshine, an ordinary young woman working as a receptionist at the local paper? This psychological paranormal thriller, reminiscent of the “Twilight Zone,” is a chilling tale with mystery and intrigue saturating every page. Told through the viewpoint of two different individuals, just when you think you have an inkling what the link between them might be another surprise comes out of nowhere, drawing you deeper and deeper into this bizarre tale.

Vivid imagery, strong characters and an intricate plot make this a story mystery fans won’t be able to put down. If you love a good murder mystery with paranormal overtones you’re sure to enjoy wading through the author’s cryptic miasma of clues trying to determine how everything ties together from the first page all the way until the heart-stopping climax.

AMAZON LINK

http://www.amazon.com/Eye-Storm-Eilidas-Tragedy-Ruthless-ebook/dp/B00OC2H712/
CONNECT WITH ELLE:

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http://thetroubledoyster.blogspot.com/
http://elleklass.weebly.com/
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https://www.facebook.com/ElleKlass